


Jeffries Tube

by Fenix21



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Schmoop-kind of?, Telepathic Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 18:54:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3083057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenix21/pseuds/Fenix21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk and Spock share an intimate moment in the Jeffries tube...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jeffries Tube

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Canon_Is_Relative](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canon_Is_Relative/gifts).



> I'm terrible at tagging my K/S...sorry! Anyway, there is sex, but it's not vulgar or explicit in anyway, hence the mature warning. This story was actually kind of universal and could have been TOS or Reboot, that's why I listed both.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> I wrote this quite some time ago, but having found a fellow writer who enjoys K/S as much as me and whose work I hold in very high regard, I'd like to gift this to Canon_Is_Relative. I was particularly proud of this little piece, and I hope she enjoys it just as much as I do. :)
> 
> For the Hungarian translation (WOW!) by the lovely EvilNobara, click [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6237727)

“Captain?” Spock called upward into the Jeffries tube.

“Up here, Spock,” the answer drifted down.

Spock raised an eyebrow, recalling Kirk’s odd message to meet him in Jeffries tube 16.3, scrawled on a scrap of antique stationery that Spock was sure had been a birthday gift from Dr. McCoy two years ago, and taped to the top of the view screen in his quarters. He climbed the ladder hand over hand and folded himself over into the adjoining maintenance tube that ran parallel to the warp core and antimatter containment chamber. Kirk was laying face up a couple of yards into the tube, one arm thrown up over his head, cushioning it against the hard surface beneath him. 

“Do you require assistance, Captain?” Spock asked.

“No. Come in, Spock.” Kirk scooted over inside the cramped tube and patted the limited space beside him.

Spock hoisted himself easily into the tube, his long, tall form forcing him to hunch as he crawled to Kirk’s side on all fours.

“May I ask the purpose of meeting in a Jeffries tube when our quarters or the rec area would provide a much more conducive venue?”

“Complaining, Spock?” Kirk teased. Spock arched an eyebrow in response. “And conducive to what exactly?” Kirk asked his eyes a twinkle with what Spock had long ago come to recognize as an intent for mischief.

Kirk smiled and patted the floor of the tube again. Spock sighed through his nose at Kirk’s stubborn illusiveness and unfolded himself at his captain’s side. The space was barely large enough for one average sized human, so Spock’s entire body was pressed close along the length of Kirk’s. He felt Kirk shift and change arms beneath his head so that he could reach between them and thread his fingers through Spock’s.

They lay side by side for long minutes listening to the thrum of the nearby engine core and watching the play of light filtering through the translucence of the tube from the dilithium crystals as they cycled in the chamber below. Spock unwittingly felt himself relaxing into the curve of the tube, and felt his breathing synchronize with the barely audible pulse of the working engine. Deep and slow and steady.

“It’s like she’s singing,” Kirk whispered into the dim glow. His fingers moved around Spock’s, and he began rubbing his thumb in small circles against Spock’s palm. Spock knew it was an absent gesture, as Kirk was so prone to, but he could not suppress the shiver that rippled the length of his body. Kirk stilled his hand. A few breaths later Spock felt Kirk shift beside him, and he opened his eyes—not realizing until now that he had closed them—to see his face mere inches away.

“Warm?” Kirk asked quietly.

Spock was momentarily confused, until Kirk’s question brought his attention to bear on the fact that he was indeed comfortably warm—likely from the inert radiation coming off the engines in the bay below—which was a rare occurrence aboard ship. Given the vast majority of the crew were human and Spock was the only Vulcan, life support was maintained for optimal human comfort. He had acclimated over the years and compensated by wearing thermal shirts beneath his uniform, but there was always a pervading degree of chill.

“Yes, thank you.”

Kirk nodded once and lay back again.

They were silent for several more minutes. Spock closed his eyes again, allowing himself to take a measure of comfort in the heat surrounding him, and to feel a modicum of awe at the fact that Kirk was thoughtful enough to try such unique and outlandish measures merely to bring him that comfort. Kirk’s thumb began working its absent circles again, and Spock let the shiver of arousal ripple freely through him this time. He turned his hand slightly giving Kirk’s wandering fingers freer access to it.  He felt the slightest pause in his movements at what—for a Vulcan—was a blatant invitation, and he could easily visualize in fine detail the rakish smile of pleasure that came over Kirk’s face as he unconsciously snugged closer into Spock’s side and took full advantage of the open palm between them.

It takes only the slightest of touches, feather light, on a Vulcan hand to illicit the keenest of arousals and Kirk had, by now, become somewhat of an expert. He let Spock’s hand lie open against his thigh for a few torturous breaths and then he touched the tip of his index finger to the heel of Spock’s hand and began to work an agonizingly slow path up to the tip of his thumb, where he paused, breathed, then ever so slowly traced the same path back. He traveled up each finger in this way, resting at the tip and feeling Spock’s blood pulse beneath the hot skin, before retreating back to the open field of his palm. When he had done this with each finger, he splayed his hand open wide--a mere molecule’s distance from Spock’s--and held there, letting the thinnest veil of warm air pass between before he matched all his fingertips to Spock’s and then carefully dragged them down, down to the center of his palm and back out again. By now Spock’s breathing had deepened and slowed, counter to a human reaction, and Kirk took his wrist firmly between his thumb and two fingers and pulled it up to his mouth. He pressed Spock’s index and middle finger together and then touched them to his lips. The Vulcan body beside him shuddered visibly and Kirk smiled against his fingers.

“Captain, if maintenance personnel should…”

Kirk rolled up onto his shoulder in one smooth movement and pressed his free hand to Spock’s lips. “I had the tube tagged for decontamination work. We won’t be bothered.” Spock acknowledged this with an infinitesimal nod and let the small worry be overrun by Kirk’s exploration of the soft tissue between his fingers with his tongue and teeth.

“You know, I’ve always fantasized about this,” Kirk said softly, almost reverently. “To make love to you, here, in the heart of her, where all her life and energy abides, all her warmth and her drive.”

Spock’s mind was still under enough of his control that he could reason out Kirk’s words and knew that he was speaking about the Enterprise. The man’s love of his ship was surpassed by only one thing that Spock knew of and that was his love of Spock himself.  Being here in the heart of the ship, lying so close to her living, beating engines and feeling the vibration of them through every touching surface and the very air itself would be a kind of Elysium for Kirk. It was one of the mysteries about his young captain that he had yet to untangle, how his so human heart could be large enough to love so much. Anyone else, Vulcan or otherwise, would be inclined to be jealous of Kirk’s devotion to his lady, but Spock had been by this man’s side for too many years to know it for anything other than what it was, the pairing of a man and his soul.

Kirk let go of Spock’s hand and rolled fully over him, lifting himself up on his arms and gently urging Spock’s knees apart with his own. Staying braced on his hands, he let the rest of his weight sink down in a slow glide against Spock’s long length. Spock heard and felt him draw in a sharp breath as the heat of their mutual arousals pressed together, and he could not help the slow rocking movement his hips engaged in against Kirk’s body. He stared up into Kirk’s face, those wide open hazel eyes staring right back, their depths aflame with desire bordering on abject need.

“Please, Spock,” Kirk whispered raggedly. “Bring us here. Bring us now.”

Spock could not resist the plea and did not want to. His own blood was afire and scorching through his veins. It would take nearly nothing to bring them satisfaction. And while the cramped space did not lend itself to rigorous lovemaking, they did not need it to. Spock lifted his hands to Kirk’s arms, feeling the hard muscles holding him strong and sure up above him. He let his hands drift upward, and Kirk’s breath shortened as he pulled his fingers forward and along his throat, exerting the lightest pressure and eliciting a low groan from the man above him. He let his hands move slowly, crawling now, finger over finger, like some erotic arachnid, and Kirk began to tremble above him in anticipation of the connection Spock would make when he reached those most particular points. Spock framed Kirk’s face with his hands, forming them into that so familiar shape, and then he paused. Kirk’s eyes drifted nearly closed in anticipation, his body was full on shaking now, and his breathing had changed to a light pant.

Spock pressed his fingers lightly to Kirk’s face and the world around them fell away. He could feel Kirk inside him, body pulsing with desire, heart beating hard and true. And he could feel himself inside Kirk; the amazing awe that Kirk felt each time they made this most intimate connection, the power and force of his passions, kept so tightly leashed for so much of the time that even a Vulcan would be forced to admire his control.

In this space where there were no boundaries, molten gold--hot and glowing--collided in the darkness with radiant sparkling blue. They met and merged, intertwined and blended, and then they climbed. The climbed high and fast, a column of glittering light vibrant in the void. Kirk rocked against Spock’s groin, his motions smooth and powerful and demanding. Spock felt every move as if it was his own, and he felt the building force that was inside Kirk begging for release. Spock answered it with his own sure thrusts, his more powerful Vulcan muscles squeezing and holding Kirk, forcing him into stillness where his desire compounded and nearly undid them both.

 _Spock!_ Kirk cried out silently, desperate now for that final pinnacle.

Spock shifted his hands fractionally on Kirk’s face and pulled his head down.

 _Come with me now, Jim._ Spock whispered the command in Kirk’s mind and aloud as well, his hot breath grazing Kirk’s ear. He drove upward, giving in to the aching swell of his body, and Kirk thrust down and forward one final time as Spock’s whispered words vibrated across every nerve and drove him to the peak of his desires and swallowed him in light.

They came slowly back to themselves, dripping slow rivulets of sweat on the glowing walls of the Jeffries tube. Kirk collapsed over Spock, his body trembling in the aftermath, his face buried in Spock’s neck. Spock moved his hands back and around Kirk, cradling the back of his head with one and reaching across his shoulders with the other. He shifted beneath Kirk’s weight to nestle him more comfortably against his body.

They lay in silence, and Spock could feel Kirk’s breathing even and slow as he fell into a light doze. Spock’s own body was slowly regulating itself back to its hybrid norms. He stared upward at the play of light on the ceiling of the tube, and, still allowing himself the indulgence of his more human tendencies, he permitted himself to dwell on the complete satisfaction he felt holding this man in his arms. Never in his life did he feel so complete as in these moments when their minds came together like two perfectly fitted pieces of the same puzzle and they acted as one being, breathing each other, for one moment so close that there was no beginning and no end to either of them.

“God, Spock, I love you.”

The muffled whisper came out on a soft huff of breath beneath his ear. Spock tilted his head just slightly into Kirk’s and, though the intensity of their connection had faded into a mere delicate ever present thread between them, he could still feel the full measure of Kirk’s words through that bond. It was a force not to be contained, and Spock felt it flood into and through him accompanied by all the fear and agony and desperate uncertainty that came with any great love. He tightened his arms on Kirk and felt the deep rumble of silent sobs rippling through him. Spock turned his head to plant a soft kiss on the blond waves against his cheek, and then whispered softly,

“As I do you, my T’hy’la.”

 


End file.
